


Mand'alor the Liberator

by Ciryc_Tal



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, Mandalorian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 07:13:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9224504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ciryc_Tal/pseuds/Ciryc_Tal
Summary: I wrote this right after the mid-season break of the third season of Star Wars Rebels, and this is the first fanfiction work that I've ever completed from start to finish!After coming into possession of the Darksaber, Sabine Wren leaves the Rebel Alliance to lead a coalition of Mandalorians to free them from the Empire's rule. She leads a brave battle, but she also becomes unsure of her place in the galaxy, and where "home" really is for her. There's also just a dash of Sabezra for you romantics out there ;)I also want to note that I wrote this before I saw the trailer for the latter half of season three. So obviously this work won't match up with what happens next in the show.





	

Star Wars Rebels

Mand’alor the Liberator

 

 

The war for freedom is almost over. With the destruction of the second Death Star and the death of Emperor Palpatine, the GALACTIC EMPIRE desperately struggles to keep its hold on the planets it still controls.

 

The planet Mandalore long served the Empire as a training campus and strategic base in the Outer Rim. However, the COALITION OF MANDALORE, led by the former Rebel agent Sabine Wren, fights bravely against the Empire to reclaim their homeworld.

 

If the Coalition is victorious, it will be a major blow against the Empire, and will bring the galaxy one step closer to peace and justice for all…

 

 

 

Smog hung thick in the atmosphere of the planet Mandalore. Smoke from the flames of crashed fighters, wrecked walkers and destroyed bunkers mingled with the dust that covered the war-torn surface. Only a few ever-changing patches of the pale sky above could be seen.

 

On the ground, white-clad figures moved through the murky smog. Bodies covered in armor, carrying blasters, skull-like helmets scanning the thick smoke and dust. Stormtroopers. The foot soldiers of the Empire who attacked in numbers that often seemed endless. AT-STs, bipedal walkers armed with heavy blasters and protected by thick armor, marched along behind them to provide support.

 

The echoes of blaster fire, starfighter engines and explosions could still be heard around them, but the area they were currently searching was relatively quiet. Aside from some scattered rock formations, the dusty terrain seemed deserted.

 

Or so it appeared.

 

Several meters ahead of the Imperial platoon, still hidden by the smog, a sharply sloped trench concealed a squad of armored warriors. But unlike the white, uniform armor of the stormtroopers, these sets of armor sported different colors, seals, patterns, and numerous variations of equipment. Because these were not plastoid armor sets that had been mass-produced by the Imperial war machine. They were made from _beskar_ , forged by the families of the ones who wore them. The armor of Mandalorians.

 

Weapons held at the ready, the Mandalorians pressed their bodies close to the edge of the trench, listening closely for their approaching enemies. They could hear the lumbering metallic sound of the AT-STs drawing closer, but they weren't afraid. Their boots were planted firmly on the ground, and they gripped their weapons with unshaking hands. They listened. But they also watched for their leader's signal.

 

In the center of the Mandalorian squadron, a female Mandalorian stood on a crate, peeking just barely above the ridge. Her armor was customized like her fellow soldiers, but her color scheme was much less restrained. Over a dominantly purple base, streaks of orange, pink and white were splayed all over her plates. Her left shoulder-guard sported a starbird shaped emblem, an early symbol of the Rebel Alliance. But while her armor was gaudier than her fellow Mandalorians, it also had just as many scratches and scorches from combat.

 

"Commander Wren?" one of the Mandalorians ventured.

 

"Not yet." Sabine Wren waved him off without looking in his direction. "Just a little more." She steadied herself against the ridge with one hand, while her other clutched a remote detonator, her thumb resting gently on the trigger.

 

Sabine had toggled her helmet's viewfinder to thermal optics, giving her advanced visibility in the smog. The heat signatures from the stormtroopers and the AT-STs blazed white hot against the otherwise monochromatic landscape. She focused on the walkers, tracking their distance from her position.

 

50 meters.

 

 _Not long now_ , Sabine thought to herself. She slowly moved her hand off the ridge to caress the handle of one of her WESTAR-35 blaster pistols. It was more of an involuntary action, a way to remind herself that she'd be in the thick of battle in just moments. She didn't usually feel so nervous before a fight, even when the odds were this bad. But this time was different. She wasn't fighting alone anymore. She was leading an army, and she was responsible for their lives too, not just hers.

 

30 meters.

 

Sabine glanced to either side of her. The Mandalorians who caught her gaze nodded, signaling they were ready anytime. She couldn't see their faces, but she could sense the fatigue they were feeling from the last several hours of near non-stop fighting. But she also knew they were prepared to fight to the death. She just hoped they were also just as eager to live. She didn't like the idea of needlessly laying down one's life.

 

10 meters.

 

Sabine lifted her helmet's viewfinder from in front of her face. The stormtroopers moved even closer, cautious, yet still unaware of the ambush that laid in wait for them. The AT-STs were close behind.

 

 _Now_.

 

Sabine squeezed the trigger, unleashing a series of explosions that discharged from several mines that had been buried in the ground along the length of the trench. She had wired them to go off in sequence, to better maximize the panic and confusion among the Imperial platoon. Every time an explosion subsided, another one erupted. Screams could be heard as the bodies of stormtroopers flew through the air, and the ones not caught in explosions whirled around erratically, trying to spot their ambushers. Most of the AT-STs were caught in explosions around their mechanical legs, causing them to fall over and crumple uselessly to the ground.

 

Sabine smiled inwardly at seeing her trap work against the superior numbers of the Empire. _Now was the time_. She pulled herself up over the ridge and drew her twin blasters.

 

"FOR MANDALORE!" she cried into her helmet comm.

 

Dozens of Mandalorians responded to her rallying cry, their voices audible in not just her comm, but also in the air around her.

 

"OYA!"

 

On either side of her, Mandalorians jumped into the fray, lifting themselves out of the trench with their arms or with their jetpacks. They charged together, firing their blasters at the horde of stormtroopers, who were still recovering from the panic of the explosive trap. Blaster bolts sliced through the air in nearly all directions, peaking the chaos of the battlefield.

 

Sabine rolled forward into a crouching position, dodging several blaster bolts and firing back. Sparks flew from the white chestplates of her targets as her twin blaster pistols knocked them to the ground. She whirled to the left, then to the right, taking down four more troopers. "Don't let up!" she ordered. "Push push push!"

 

Once she had cleared the area of enough targets, she slid toward one of the fallen AT-STs, using the wreckage as cover. She trained both pistols in the direction of where the Imperials had come from. She got in a few shots against some troopers, but she quickly snapped to cover when a barrage of blasters bolts whisked past her face. Just as she was about to resume firing, she heard the metallic thud of a hatch opening just to above her. A grey-clad Imperial combat driver stepped up onto the wrecked walker, drawing a blaster. But before he could even aim at her, Sabine reached up and grabbed the driver by the belt, flipping him over her and sending him landing head-first into the ground. The driver's helmet rolled off his head, giving Sabine an opening to stomp his exposed face, knocking him unconscious.

 

A couple of other Mandalorians caught up to her, gathering behind the wrecked AT-ST and firing into the stormtroopers. The well-trained Mandalorians fired with greater accuracy and efficiency than the approaching stormtroopers, but they were still heavily outgunned. Another volley of blaster bolts slammed against their cover and whirled past their heads, causing Sabine and her companions to duck down.

 

"Here!" Sabine quickly unhooked three thermal detonators from her belt, handing two of them to Mandalorians on either side of her. Standing up again, they hurled the explosives far ahead of them into groupings of the stormtroopers. The resulting explosions sent more stormtroopers flying like ragdolls.

 

More Mandalorians formed up behind her, shoring up their advance. Some of them had taken to the air with their jetpacks, firing downward at the troopers as they darted across the sky like birds of prey. She could start to see some of the stormtroopers signaling to each other to fall back. Sabine grinned. She turned to face the advancing Mandalorian squadron. "We've got the imps on the run! Come on!"

 

She and the other two Mandalorians next to her leapt over the fallen AT-ST and started their pursuit. They fired into the crowd of stormtroopers, most of whom were either shooting as they hustled backwards or were in full retreat. Sabine could feel her heart swell with courage and hope as she saw Mandalorians on either side of her race forward with zeal.

 

But that feeling quickly dissipated when the hammer-like force of heavy blaster rounds pounded into the ground in front of Sabine, sending her flying back several meters. She landed hard on the ground, her helmet snapping back on the rough surface. She felt like she had narrowly avoided a concussion, but her vision was blurry for a moment. "Scatter and get to cover!" she winced to her comrades. She sat herself up and looked around to see what had happened.

 

All around her, several Mandalorians laid dead, their armor badly burned by the high-intensity blaster rounds that had seemingly come from out of nowhere. Several were still alive, but were now scattering, finding cover behind rock formations. The Mandalorians that were still airborne scanned the area in front of them, looking for the source of the attack.

 

"Commander Wren!" one of the flying Mandalorians transmitted directly to Sabine. "AT-ATs ahead!"

 

"Ugh," Sabine grunted as she stood, tightening her grip on her blaster pistols. "How many?"

 

"At least three, maybe more. It's hard to tell from this dist—"

 

Before the Mandalorian could finish reporting, he was knocked out of the sky by a stray laser blast. The impact sent him flying away beyond Sabine's sight.

 

"Karabast!" Sabine had found herself using the Lasat exclamation more and more since this campaign began. It was just a little reminder of home. Pushing the thought out of her head, she turned around and started heading back for cover in the trench. As she retreated, she activated the computer on her gauntlet and set a communication channel.

 

"This is Wren to Skull Leader! Wren to Skull Leader! Do you copy?"

 

"This is Skull Leader! Sabine, are you alright?" The voice of Fenn Rau responded from his Fang fighter, which was currently leading their starfighters against Imperial TIEs still fighting in the atmosphere.

 

"Fenn, I'm at defense line Alpha. What's the status of the air battle?"

 

"We've thinned out most of their fighters, but we've taken heavy losses ourselves. I think we can take the rest of them though!"

 

"That's great, because we've got at least three AT-ATs heading right for us! We need air support now!"

 

"Copy that. I've locked onto your position. Skull Squadron will be inbound soon! Just hang on! Argh!" Sabine could hear static just as Fenn groaned. "Skull Four! Get this bogey off me!"

 

The signal ended. Sabine desperately hoped it was because Fenn had cut it himself so he could focus on directing his squadron. "Please hurry, Fenn," Sabine prayed aloud.

 

Sabine reached the trench and jumped in, narrowly avoiding a blaster bolt in the back. She was followed by several Mandalorians, who after jumping in, immediately started switching between standing to fire back and ducking again for cover. She looked up, scanning the battlefield. The impact of the AT-ATs blasters had cleared some of the smog, which allowed her to see several squads of stormtroopers, their approach reinvigorated by the support from the enormous walkers. Sabine fired a few rounds at the troopers before ducking back down again.

 

She looked around at the Mandalorians in the trench. Those who weren't fighting were leaning against the dirt wall, clutching wounds or reloading their weapons. Medics ran from one injured Mandalorian to another, treating blaster burns and broken limbs. Only the most seriously wounded were willing to accept any kind of anesthetic—they didn't want anything to inhibit their senses for the battle.

 

The number lying dead in the trench was higher than she had feared.

 

The leadership skills that Sabine had developed over the kicked in. She needed to act. "Send a message to nearby squads to regroup on this location! Get some heavy ordnance on that ridge! We may not be able to stop those walkers, but we can at least hold them off! We're the last line of defense between them and Sundari—we can't let them back into the city!"

 

The last several years of campaigning against the Empire had taken them this far. After they drove the Imperial garrison off Concord Dawn, they moved onto Mandalore itself, driving the enemy out of the major cities. They had succeeded in recapturing all of them, including the capital Sundari. But before they even had a chance to celebrate their victory, Imperial reinforcements from nearby systems converged on the planet. Mandalore was undoubtedly the most strategically valuable planet in the region, and after all the losses they had sustained since Endor, the Empire wasn't going to let it go without a fight.

 

Sabine activated her comm again, opening a channel to Fenn. "Skull Leader, we are in immediate need of air support over here! What's your status?"

 

"The damned Imperials have brought in another squadron of TIEs! We're trying to get to you, but there's too much interference!" Fenn responded.

 

"Just get here as soon as you can, we won't hold out long against these!"

 

"Roger! I'll keep you posted!" The channel closed.

 

Sabine cursed again. With their starfighters occupied, there was no one else that could stand up to the Empire's armored behemoths. But they were getting slaughtered, and by the time the fighters got to them, it would be too late...

 

Sabine checked her utility belt. Two thermal detonators left. In just the right spot, they might do the job. _But how to get close to the walkers without being blown to bits?_

 

She poked her head over the ridge. Ahead of the approaching AT-ATs, the Imperial platoon was drawing close. But in the center of the horde she spied something else. Three imperial speeder bikes, mounted by scout troopers.

 

 _That's it_ , she thought to herself. She knew what she had to do. She set her helmet comm to address all the Mandalorians within range. "All units, focus your fire on those approaching speeder bikes. But don't fire on the one in the middle. He's mine!"

 

"OYA!" the Mandalorians replied in chorus. They stepped up to the ridge, firing their weapons at the rapidly approaching bikes.

 

"Cover me!" Sabine called out as she leapt up over the ridge and sprinted toward her target. She ran in a serpentine pattern, dodging blaster bolts. This attack was much heavier than before, but she refused to lose her nerve.

 

The scout trooper on the right of the approaching trio caught a blaster bolt in the chest, which sent him tumbling off the speeder bike, which then crashed into a rock. The one on the left veered to the side, but a couple of blaster bolts rammed into the side of the bike, sending his front spinning and crashing into the ground. The middle one accelerated right toward Sabine, firing the blaster cannon mounted under the front.

 

Without slowing her advance, Sabine squeezed hard on a switch on her right glove's trigger finger, and her back-mounted jetpack exploded to life, sending her flying up toward the speeder bike. Caught off guard, the rider looked up at Sabine—only to receive a swift kick in the face, which knocked him off the bike and sent him rolling wildly onto the ground. The speeder bike, now lacking a rider, immediately decreased speed and slowed to a stop, still hovering above the ground. Sabine whipped around and ran for the bike. She mounted it, grabbing the handlebars and twisting the throttle. The bike's engine hummed and she jolted forward. She made a U-turn back toward the approaching enemy force, completely alone.

 

With the increased speed of the bike, the flurry of blaster bolts flying by seemed several times faster. The stormtroopers she flew past whipped by like white phantoms. But despite the danger of riding through this battlefield alone, she had an edge in mobility. She banked, turned, and maneuvered her way through the chaos. After all the dangerous missions she had carried out on Lothal and beyond, riding a speeder bike felt as natural to her as running on her own two feet.

 

She sharply swerved to the right, narrowly avoiding a heavy blaster round from an AT-ST. The lumbering tank continued to fire at her, its box-like head following her movements. Sabine grinned. She knew just how to handle them in this situation. Steadying her bike with her left hand, her right hand reached to her lower back to grasp a rectangular hilt with a slanted hand guard. She extended it to her side, holding the object perpendicular to her speeder bike. She then flicked a switch, and from the edge of the hilt sprang a humming blade of black energy—the Darksaber, an ancient Jedi artifact that has been kept by the Mandalorians for generations.

 

As she sped by the AT-ST, Sabine slashed outward with the blade at one of its legs, cutting the solid metal clean through like a hot knife through butter. The walker immediately fell over, its massive head erupting in an explosion when it slammed into the ground. Sabine briefly glanced behind her to confirm the walker had indeed gone down, and smiled at her handiwork. Even though she hadn't needed to face any dark Jedi, the Darksaber definitely had its uses on the field. She switched the blade off and put it back in its magnetic holder.

 

Sabine sped onward, dodging more blaster bolts and stormtroopers until she reached the feet of the left-most AT-AT. Not wanting to lose any momentum, she steadied herself to crouch on top of the seat of the speeder bike, then vaulted herself into a backflip that took her high into the air. When she was upright, she activated her jetpack and rocketed upwards. She positioned herself alongside the AT-AT, which continued to lumber forward, firing its heavy blaster cannons. Once she had elevated herself above the height of the walker, she landed on its back, rolling into a crouching position. After she gained her bearings, she quickly moved to the front of the walker's body, then jumped down to stand on its neck—the place on an AT-AT where its armor was known to be the weakest. She took the Darksaber in hand again and drove the black blade deep into the neck. Sparks flew harmlessly onto her visor, and the jagged metal burned a bright yellow. She cut deeper, making a crevasse that she hoped would be deep enough. Once she had cut as far down as the length of the blade would allow, she put away the saber and took a thermal detonator in hand. She armed the detonator and dropped it into the newly formed cavity. Not waiting around the watch the result, Sabine switched on her jetpack again and set herself on a path directly to the next closest AT-AT. It only took a few seconds before she heard the satisfying _boom_ of the thermal detonator exploding from within the near-center of the AT-AT's neck. Immediately following the explosion was the sound of the walker's head crashing onto the ground below. With the rest of the body cut off from the head's main controls, the walker stopped its approach.

 

When she reached the next AT-AT, Sabine deactivated her jetpack and set herself down on its back to start the same process again. She didn't have a plan for how to deal with the third AT-AT, but she was hoping Fenn might be able to give her a hand by then. After making a hole in the neck of the walker with her Darksaber, she took her last thermal detonator in hand and prepared to arm it. But just before she could, she heard the scream of a twin ion engine, and looked up just in time to see a TIE fighter flying right at her, firing its laser cannons. While the TIE was technically firing at an allied walker, the AT-AT's armor could easily withstand heavy blasters. Sabine's own armor wasn't quite that strong. She desperately rolled to the side to avoid the deadly laser blasts, which slammed into the walker's armor in a shower of sparks and smoke. The impact sent her rolling farther than she had planned—right over the side of the AT-AT.

 

But Sabine had been in tight situations like this before, and her sharp instincts always protected her. She grabbed onto the edge of the walker with one hand, her feet dangling perilously above the 20 meter drop. She looked down, just in time to see her last thermal detonator fall from her other hand. _Not good,_ she thought to herself. She struggled to pull herself up, but turned her head when she heard the sound of the TIE's engine rapidly drawing close. It seemed this pilot was willing to risk shooting the AT-AT's neck if it meant getting her off of it.

 

She was just bracing herself to drop down when the TIE fighter was suddenly attacked by a series of green laser blasts. The TIE burst into a shower of flames and twisted metal, crashing into the ground as a Mandalorian Fang Fighter streaked by, its swivel-mounted wings spinning rapidly.

 

Just as Sabine pulled herself back onto the walker, her helmet comm activated. "This is Skull Leader," Fenn said. "Sorry for the delay, Commander."

 

"Better late than never!" Sabine replied. She turned to watch Fenn's Fang Fighter circle the battlefield. "Still got some torpedoes left? We're gonna need to hit these walkers hard."

 

"Plenty of ordnance left. Only problem is my fighter took a few hits from some TIEs, and my thermal imaging has been damaged. With all this smog on the field I can't see anything down there!"

 

"So you can't even see the walkers?"

 

"Only from close up. Not even range to get a clean shot."

 

 _And if he fires blindly at them he could risk hitting some of our own_ , Sabine realized. She needed to give him a set of eyes. _But how?_

 

She checked her utility belt to see what else she still had. She was out of explosives of course, and her only other weapons were her twin blaster pistols and the Darksaber. _Could I signal my position with that?_

 

 _No, it may not be visible enough._ And she wouldn't have enough time to get clear of Fenn's attack path. _What else could I use?_ She checked her pouches for anything else. She reached into a pouch on her hip and pulled out a couple of disc-shaped magnetic devices. They were emergency beacons that sent out a signal in case one got stranded.

 

"Fenn, how's your targeting computer?"

 

"Functioning."

 

"Set it to lock onto frequency 429. But don't fire until I give the word!"

 

"Copy that. Scanning for frequency!"

 

The Fang Fighter continued to circle around the battlefield. Not wanting to keep his fighter exposed to enemy fire for too long, Sabine took one of the beacons and tossed it right into the hole she had carved into the AT-AT's neck. Once she had confirmed that the beacon was beeping, she jumped off the walker's back, activating her jetpack and heading toward the last AT-AT.

 

"Fenn, now!"

 

"Copy that! Coming in hot!"

 

Sabine flipped her body around to watch. When the AT-AT had turned its neck far to one side, its weakspot became open. Sabine could see Fenn's starfighter approach from the exposed side. The fighter then fired two proton torpedoes from its ventral port, which collided with the AT-AT's neck in a brilliant explosion. The Fang Fighter swerved by, climbing back into the sky while the body of the AT-AT buckled under and fell over, kicking up a massive cloud of dust and smoke as it crashed into the earth.

 

"Great shot, Fenn!" Sabine cheered. She shifted her body mid-air again and shot straight for the last AT-AT. _This is working,_ Sabine told herself. _Just one more and we can regain ground superiority!_ "Get ready for the next one!"

 

"Roger that. Skull Leader, standing by."

 

Sabine's boots once again landed on the back of an AT-AT. _This jetpack certainly would've a made a lot of those old missions easier,_ she thought, again reminding of herself of her days with the _Ghost’s_ crew. She pushed the thought back, heading down the sloped back of the AT-AT to place the tracker again. But she was suddenly knocked forward by the impact of a blaster bolt from behind. Her jetpack may have just saved her life, but she guessed from the sounds of sparks and jammed machinery that she was just rendered flightless. She landed painfully on her chest, but reacted quickly, rolling onto her back while drawing one of her pistols, firing back in the direction of her attacker. She found herself firing at an open hatch on the top of the AT-AT, and she caught a glimpse of a red helmet ducking back into cover.

 

She had a guess as to who her attacker was.

 

Sabine was completely exposed on top of the walker, unlike her opponent, so she only had one chance. Firing rapidly, she charged the open hatch. When she got close, she stopped firing, giving her attacker a chance to pop out of cover. As she thought, he did, aiming his blaster rifle directly at her. But she was already too close for him to fire, and she kicked the weapon right out of his hands. She moved to aim her pistol directly at his face, but just as she did, the helmeted attacker grabbed her by the wrist and arm, flipping her over onto the hard metal surface. The impact knocked her pistol out of her hand. Recovering quickly, she kipped up and spun around, drawing her remaining pistol. She now faced her attacker, who had climbed out of the hatch and stood on the AT-AT's back with her, his own blaster pistol drawn and pointed directly at her.

 

The two of them stood in silence, neither making a move.

 

Sabine now knew full well who she was facing now. Her opponent was an Imperial Super Commando—a Mandalorian who had pledged loyalty to the Empire. He wore blood-red armor protecting his legs, arms and chest over a white body suit. His helmet was modeled after that of a Mandalorian's, but it lacked the T-shaped visor of the traditional Mandalorian style, favoring a single curved slit over the eyes. He wore the Imperial seal on his shoulder.

 

Gar Saxon, leader of the Imperial Super Commandos and Imperial Viceroy of Mandalore.

 

"You've been a thorn in my side for long enough, Sabine Wren," Saxon growled at her.

 

"Give me a little credit, Saxon," Sabine retorted. "Would a mere thorn have been able to throw this little party together for you?" She gestured at the battlefield around them.

 

"Nothing more than the pathetic trickery of a guerilla fighter," Saxon sneered back.

 

"Well, I've got more trick just for _you_!" On the last word, Sabine hurled her last emergency beacon right over Saxon's head. Saxon fired his blaster at Sabine, and the bolt caught her in the shoulder and knocked her down.But he took his eyes off her to watch the beacon sail over his head and land right on the AT-AT's neck behind him.

 

Sabine scrambled to her feet, firing shots behind her and trying to put some distance between her and Saxon. She flicked on her comm. "Fenn, NOW!"

 

"Are you sure you're clear?" Fenn asked.

 

"Just do it!" Sabine ordered, rolling down the AT-AT's back and dodging blaster fire.

 

"Roger that! Commencing attack!" Fenn's signal cut out.

 

Sabine heard the roar of a jetpack, and spun around to face Saxon arching toward her from high up in the air, firing his pistol at her. Sabine managed to avoid the bolts, but a stray shot struck her pistol, knocking her weapon out of her hand. She glanced to the side to watch it fall to the ground below.

 

The momentum from Saxon's jetpack carried him all the way to where she was standing, his fist ready to deliver a punch. Sabine held up her gauntleted arms to block the attack. She shielded her face, but the force of the punch knocked her flat on her back. She reached for the Darksaber clipped onto her lower back, but before she could even activate the blade, Saxon's armored boot stomped down on her wrist. Sabine's eyes shut as she cried out in pain, and she lost her grip on the only weapon she had left. When she opened her eyes again, she found herself looking up at Saxon, his blaster pistol pointed right at her face, a victorious sneer on his face.

 

"I was hoping I'd capture both you and Fenn Rau alive. I thought a public execution of the two of you would demonstrate to the rest of your insurgents who the true leader of Mandalore is," Saxon jeered over her. Keeping his blaster fixed on Sabine, he kneeled down to pick up the Darksaber, glancing at it smugly. "This should help to convince them as well."

 

"Maybe," Sabine winced. A smile crept upon her face as she could hear the approach of a starfighter's engine. She nodded in the direction of the sound. "But the one you're really gonna want to convince is him."

 

Saxon's head turned, and his eyes widened as he recognized Fenn Rau's Fang Fighter headed right for them.

 

The Fang Fighter launched a volley of proton torpedoes directly at the AT-AT’s neck, and the fiery blast shook the entire walker. Sabine could feel the walker shift under her, as its multi-ton body was violently knocked to the side. She noticed Gar Saxon fall, but she paid more attention to finding something to hold onto. She started to slide, and tried to grip at anything she could.

 

But there was nothing.

 

Sabine found herself looking up at the sky, still clouded with smoke, as she fell over the side of the walker and plummeted down to the surface.

 

 

 

 ***

 

 

 

The sound of heavy blaster fire and starfighter engines awoke Sabine from her unconsciousness. At first, she could see nothing, even though she could swear her eyes were open. The darkness that clouded her vision faded slowly. Through her visor she could make out the coils of smog that still hung in the air. As her vision improved, her other senses began to kick back in. She could smell the smoke from the fires of wrecked vehicles around her. She could feel the aching of her entire body, pleading with her for rest. She was probably concussed, her life saved once again by her helmet. Wincing, she reached into one of her pouches and pulled out an emergency bacta injection. popping the cap of with her thumb, she rammed the needle hard into her arm, pushing down on the plunger and allowing the healing liquid to flow into her veins. She felt a surge of relief, but it wasn’t enough to dull all the pain. She didn’t want it to anyway. She was alone on the field now, and she needed to be alert.

 

And nothing made a person feel more alert than pain.

 

She slowly stood, scanning the area around her. She didn’t see anyone around, thankfully. The AT-AT lay next to her, its metal body riddled with burns and breaches. She could see several scattered stormtrooper bodies, as well as a few Mandalorians.

 

She felt like she was standing in an open grave.

 

Sabine detached her now useless jetpack from her back and activated her comm link. “Wren to Skull Leader. Come in.”

 

No response.

 

Sabine tried again. “Wren to Skull Leader. Come in, Skull Leader.”

 

Still nothing.

 

“Fenn? Fenn, answer me!”

 

Sabine felt her heart sink. _Something must have happened to him_. She checked the computer on her gauntlet, selecting a tracking program of the Fang Fighters in Skull Squadron. Most of the them had been wiped out, but there were a few that were still fighting it seemed. She looked at the status of Skull Leader.

 

_Down._

 

Panicking, Sabine began scanning the area around her for a friendly signal. It only took a moment for her scan to pick up an emergency beacon that had been activated just a few klicks west of her.

 

 _It has to Fenn,_ she thought to herself.

 

She ran over to one of the dead stormtroopers. Next to the body was an E-11 blaster rifle, their standard armament. She picked it up, checking the power cell. Still plenty of ammo left. Satisfied, she armed the blaster and headed into the smog toward Fenn’s position, praying the Imperials would be too focused on advancing before they found him.

 

She only jogged several meters alongside the AT-AT before she heard someone grunt from around the wreckage. Readying her blaster, Sabine carefully approached the source of the sound.

 

Facing away from her, pushing himself up from all fours, was the red and white armored form of Gar Saxon. He was breathing heavily, and seemed to have some trouble standing. He whipped himself around in a sitting position, and looked up at Sabine, her blaster pointed right at him.

 

Sabine’s finger was firmly on the trigger.

 

Saxon seemed to notice it. He pulled his helmet off, tossing it to the side. His white hair was tousled, and his chin was covered with white and gray stubble. He had several scars, and a dried bloodstain covered the right side of his face.

 

His eyes burned with hatred as he glared at Sabine. But then, he smirked.

 

“So,” Saxon began, his breathe still sounded labored. “This is how it ends.”

 

Sabine said nothing, still pointing her blaster at him. She wondered how long she would let him talk before she finished him off.

 

“Sabine Wren, the great leader of the Mandalorian uprising, bravely defeats the Empire by shooting an injured, unarmed man in the dirt. Is that the story you’ll tell to your grandchildren one day?”

 

 _Don’t let him goad you,_ Sabine reminded herself. Saxon may be injured, but an injured vornskr is most dangerous when backed into a corner.

 

“Go on, Wren. Shoot!” Saxon spat at her. “Shoot me, and claim your honorable victory!”

 

Unmoving, Sabine thought about everything that had happened that had led to this moment. Her escape from Mandalore. Her life as a bounty hunter. Joining the _Ghost_. Finding the Darksaber. Leaving the Rebellion to free Mandalore.

 

She had been chosen for this. Not just by the Mandalorians, but by something else. That’s what Kanan had told her long ago.

 

It was time to settle this. She no longer had anyone else to rely on. She was going to face this on her own. And if he wanted a fair fight, he was going to get it.

 

Sabine disengaged the power cell from the blaster rifle. She threw the power cell in one direction, and the rifle in other. Then, she placed her hands on the sides of her helmet, and lifted it free from her head. The hot wind of the battlefield blew against her face, and she felt the locks of her bright, neon green hair fall over her forehead. She dropped the helmet to her side, then raised her fists up, moving her feet into a fighting stance.

 

“You know, you’re right, Saxon,” Sabine said. “I’m gonna have a lot more fun beating that smirk off your face with my bare hands.”

 

Saxon stood and raised his fists. The two rivals moved cautiously toward each other, then started circling like two gladiators in an arena. Dust from the ground picked up in the wind, but the two warriors stayed focused on each other.

 

Saxon made the first move. He lunged forward to Sabine, his swinging his gloved fists. Sabine expertly dodged the attacks, keeping light on her feet. She counterattacked with her own punches, and Saxon deflected with his gauntlets. He took a wide step forward with a haymaker, but Sabine quickly stepped under it. She spun around the caught him in the back with a hard kick. The move took a toll on her body, but she couldn’t hold anything back. She knew that he wouldn’t.

 

Saxon roared in frustration. He spun around, his fists a flurry of attacks. Sabine could sense he was losing his composure. She held up her arms, letting her gauntlets absorb the attacks she couldn’t dodge. When she saw an opening, she snuck in a light punch across his face. When she saw that had disoriented him, she threw in more punches, progressively getting harder. Saxon began to stumble backward. Finishing off her series of punches, Sabine jumped up and struck him with a flying windmill kick, striking him with one foot, then following up with her other. She saw blood fly from Saxon’s mouth as he spun and fell on his hands and kness, breathing heavily.

 

“It’s over, Saxon,” Sabine said as she strode over to him. If she put him in a sleeper hold, she could knock him out so he could be captured later.

 

“NO!” Saxon yelled. He spun upwards at her with an unforeseen burst of energy. Sabine braced herself, but she was too late. Saxon’s gauntleted arm stretched out to her, and Sabine suddenly felt the cold steel of a knife blade sinking into her abdomen. Crying out in pain, she looked to see a retractable wrist blade protruding from Saxon’s gauntlet. A dirty trick from someone who just moments ago wanted a fair fight.

 

A cruel smile crept across Saxon’s face, and his eyes widened in delight. He stood, and with a swift motion, he pulled his wrist blade out of Sabine’s stomach and kicked her hard in her new wound. Sabine fell backwards, intense pain shooting through her core.

 

Sabine’s heart rate intensified, and adrenaline started to kick in. But the pain almost too much to bear. Clutching her stomach, she tried to crawl, pushing herself away from Saxon with her boots and her free arm. A feeling of dread and helplessness overwhelmed her.

 

Sabine could hear the sadistic laughter of Saxon as he sauntered over to her. “Did you really think you could take Mandalore from me?” Saxon gave Sabine another kick, and she cried out again.

 

“Look at you,” Saxon taunted. “A writhing worm, trying to wriggle away from me. How could any self-respecting Mandalorian even think of taking up with the likes of _you_?” Saxon kicked her hard in the stomach again. Sabine was certain that some of her ribs were broken.

 

“Mandalore is mine!”

 

“You were handed Mandalore on a plate by the Empire!” Sabine shot back. She continued to struggle to get away from Saxon, moving herself toward the wreckage of the AT-AT. She figured if she could keep him talking, maybe she could figure out something. Some possible way of surviving this. But she was losing blood, and the only thing keeping Saxon from finishing her off with his blade was his ego.

 

She didn’t like her odds.

 

“The Empire knows leadership when it sees it,” Saxon retorted. He didn’t kick Sabine this time, but he followed her, keeping her just within reach. “The rest of Mandalore will too, once I show them your head on a spike.”

 

“The Mandalorians will never follow you. You’re just standing on the shoulders of a force stronger than yourself!”

 

Saxon laughed. “Strong words, coming from a defeated little girl.”

 

Sabine reached the edge of the AT-AT. She felt around for anything to hold onto. But there was nothing. She could feel her hands on her stomach getting wet with her blood. _This is it_ , she thought to herself.

 

_It’s hopeless._

 

 _No_ , she heard another voice say. _There is always hope._

 

That voice. It sounded so familiar. Strong, yet gentle. Young, but wise.

 

_Kanan?_

 

_Sabine. No matter how hard the path gets, you have to keep reaching forward. Keep reaching until you grasp that last thread of hope._

 

_I can’t!_

 

_Yes, you can. Trust me. Trust yourself. And reach. Reach._

 

With her free hand, Sabine reached out. She reached out for anything she could feel. She swept her hand across the dirt under the scrap metal of the walker. She couldn’t find anything.

 

 _Keep reaching,_ Kanan’s voice urged her.

 

“As much as I enjoy watching you squirm, I have a victory to claim,” she heard Saxon say.

 

“There is no victory for spineless cowards like you!” Sabine said heatedly. She looked up at him, her eyes shining with defiance. “Mandalore will never be yours!”

 

She kept reaching.

 

Saxon’s triumphant smirk turned into a face of rage. He strode over to her, eyes burning with hatred. “Never be mine?” he yelled. He kicked her again. And again. And again. “I AM MANDALORE!”

 

Saxon’s kicks drove into Sabine’s stomach like a battering ram. She hollered in agony, but Saxon didn’t let up.

 

She kept reaching.

 

“Coward? Spineless?” Saxon growled. “What about you? You’re weak! You’re worthless! You’re NOTHING! You abandoned Mandalore long ago. You’re nothing but a pathetic rebel!

 

Saxon finally stopped his series of kicks, and stood over Sabine. He held up his arm, and the hidden blade sprang out of his gauntlet, still coated in her blood. His eyes burned as he panted like a wild dog. "Now preserve what scraps of honor you may have left, and die like a Mandalorian!”

 

Sabine kept her eyes on him. Just as she prepared to meet her end, she felt something in the dirt. In her gloved fingers she could feel a familiar metal shaft. There were ridges on one end, that ended with a bent metal edge. She also recognized a switch. She gripped the shaft tightly, placing her hopes in a last-ditch effort.

 

“I may be a Mandalorian...” Sabine said. Her whole body tensed, and she focused her mind, shutting out the pain and fear that she had been feeling.

 

The timing had to be just right.

 

Saxon leaned in and lunged forward. He thrusted with his gauntlet, aiming his wrist blade right at Sabine’s neck.

 

Just before Saxon's metal blade could reach her, Sabine thrusted back as she switched on the black energy blade of the Darksaber. She drove the humming blade straight through his armored chest, and it crackled and hissed as it passed straight through his chest and protruded out his back.

 

"...but I was raised by a Jedi."

 

Saxon's eyes widened with shock as he gasped and gurgled. But life quickly left him. Sabine switched off the Darksaber just as his eyes rolled back into his head, and his armored body rolled lifelessly to the side. Gar Saxon, the Imperial Viceroy of Mandalore, fell dead.

 

Sabine's arm dropped to the ground in exhaustion. She was still breathing hard, and the pain from her wound reclaimed her full attention. She stared up at the sky for a moment, clutching her wound and thinking about what had just happened.

 

 _Kanan_. Even now, he was still watching over her.

 

"Thank you," Sabine whispered.

 

Groaning, Sabine stood herself up. Her body ached, her head throbbed, and her wound screamed at her. She checked her pouches. She had some bacta patches, which could help heal the tissue, but she needed a way to stop the bleeding.

 

With no small amount of dismay, she realized what she needed to do.

 

She lifted up the top of her body glove, wincing as the fabric brushed against her tender wound. She took a moment to examine it. Much of the blood around it had dried, but she could still feel it slowly pouring out. She removed one of her gloves and held it in her teeth. Then, she took up the Darksaber and turned on the blade. She braced herself as she carefully guided the edge of the blade toward her knife wound.

 

Sabine's eyes squeezed shut as she bore the searing pain of the energy blade touching her bare skin. Her scream was muted by the glove in her mouth. After just a second, which seemed so much longer, she switched off the blade and dropped the saber in the dirt. With her wound now cauterized, she took a bacta patch from her pouch and slapped it over the wound. Once she was sure it was secure, she pulled her body glove back over her stomach. She just hoped it would hold.

 

Sabine picked up the Darksaber again and placed it in the clip on her back. She held up her gauntlet again to check the computer for Fenn's signal. It was still active. She quickly recovered her helmet, along with the blaster rifle and power cell she had discarded earlier.

 

Before taking off toward Fenn's location, Sabine regarded Saxon's body with one last look. She thought about all of the hell that he had put her and her fellow Mandalorians through. But Kanan had warned her about dwelling on feelings of hate. Clearing her mind, she placed her helmet back on her head, armed her blaster, and headed out into the misty battlefield toward her friend.

 

After painfully running for several minutes, she reached the site of the crashed Fang Fighter. The ship appeared to have crashed at an angle, as the right wing was badly damaged and half-buried in the ground. The engine was fuming like a smokestack, and the body of the craft was crumpled and torn all over. The cockpit, however, still seemed intact. The fighter's hatch had been opened, and sitting in the pilot's seat was the familiar, helmeted form of Fenn Rau.

 

He wasn't moving.

 

"Fenn!" Sabine called out, picking up her pace. She jumped up over the sunken wing and climbed up to the cockpit. Gripping her blaster with one hand, she shook Fenn's shoulder with the other. "Fenn! Fenn, wake up! Get up, Fenn!"

 

"Ugh," Fenn groaned as he regained consciousness. His head turned a few times, scanning the area, finally resting the gaze of his T-shaped visor on Sabine's own helmeted face. "Sabine?" he asked wearily. "What are you doing here?"

 

"I'm getting you out of here. Can you stand?"

 

"I'm not sure," Fenn grunted. "The top half of me is fine, but the cockpit got a bit smashed up." He placed his hands on the side of the cockpit and tried to lift himself out.

 

"Argh!" he cried out. "I can't move my legs!" He set himself back down into his seat. "It's no good, Commander. You need to get yourself out of here."

 

"You wouldn't be saying that if you knew what I went through just getting here," Sabine snapped back at him. "I should be able to cut away some of the hull, but we need to move fast. We've probably only got a few minutes before the Empire—"

 

"TOO LATE!" Fenn shouted. Having regained his full senses, he whipped a blaster pistol out of a concealed compartment in his ship and fired two shots past Sabine's head. Sabine whirled her head around to see the blaster bolts strike down two Imperial stormtroopers that had emerged from the dark haze. Almost immediately after he did, Sabine could see the outlines of several more stormtroopers appear all around her. Alerted to the blaster fire, the stormtroopers opened fire on Fenn's cockpit. Sabine slammed the hatch to Fenn's cockpit shut, so as not to expose him to enemy fire. She then jumped down from the cockpit and took cover behind the damaged wing. She fired off several rounds before ducking back into cover. Above her head, a deadly volley of blaster bolts collided with the hull of the crashed ship.

 

Sabine started to panic. She had no explosives, and without her twin blaster pistols, she was at less than half fighting strength. She stood up to fire back, and was able to take down two troopers before an enemy blaster bolt pounded her in the shoulder. She stumbled back down. Her puldron protected her skin, but the impact still hurt like hell.

 

Refusing to stay down, Sabine got up again, firing off a flurry of shots, scoring several hits. But for every trooper she took down, it seemed like another took his place. She glanced left and right. She was completely surrounded. She ducked to cover again and activated her comm, sending out a distress signal.

 

"All troops, this is Wren! Skull Leader and I are pinned down by a massive Imperial force and we need backup!"

 

She heard a scrambled voice within a mess of static, but couldn't make out what was being said.

 

"Repeat! I did not copy, repeat that!"

 

The voice responded, but she still couldn't make out what was being said.

 

Sabine cursed, and just as she was trying to figure out an escape plan for her and Fenn, she heard the familiar metallic clomp of an Imperial AT-ST. Sighing in defeat, she set down her blaster and rose to her feet, her hands up in the air. Before her stood an entire company of Imperial stormtroopers, blasters aimed right at her. The AT-ST stood in the center, unmoving, but she knew it was ready to fire at her at any moment.

 

A trooper with a commander’s red pauldron stepped forward, his blaster trained on her. "Remove your helmet, Mandalorian. Slowly."

 

Sabine placed her hands on her helmet and lifted it off her head. She dropped it in front of her, and it bounced off the wing of the fighter and fell into the dirt. It rolled for a second, its visor facing up. Sabine almost felt it was giving her a disappointed look.

 

"Hands on your head!" the stormtrooper barked. "And get out from there! Any sudden movements and we will shoot!"

 

Sabine raised her hands without saying a word. She simply stared back at the stormtrooper, fixing him with an unyielding gaze. But she didn't move. _Think,_ she told herself. _There has to be a way out of this._ After narrowly surviving her encounter with Gar Saxon, she felt like she had a little more faith.

 

"I said, move it!" the stormtrooper repeated.

 

Sabine closed her eyes, recalling the words Kanan had whispered to her before. _Reach out._

 

"This is your last warning!" the stormtrooper threatened.

 

Shutting out the voice of the stormtrooper, Sabine could hear another sound. The faint droning of an engine. Several engines. And they were getting closer.

 

"What the..." the stormtrooper started. But before he could say anything else, the dark sky around them was ignited by red streaks of energy that slammed into the ground, launching stormtroopers into the air. Sabine looked up to see three Rebel Alliance Y-Wings streak overhead, dropping their ordnance onto the company of troopers. One of the bombs landed squarely on top of the AT-ST, and it exploded in a fiery hail.

 

The Imperials scattered for cover, and she saw several of them prepare anti-air weapons to combat the Y-Wings. Sabine ducked down and grabbed her blaster, firing several shots at them. The Y-Wings came in for another pass. The stormtroopers had scattered, but several of them were still struck down by the bombers.

 

And flying just behind the group of Y-Wings, there was a familiar looking freighter. Gray, propelled by four thrusters, and shaped like a jewel...

 

"Hera!" Sabine shouted, almost involuntarily. She ducked down to cover. She didn't have her helmet, but the computer on her arm still had a communication device. She adjusted the signal to match that of the _Ghost's_ cockpit comm. She just prayed that Hera hadn't changed the frequency.

 

"Hera? Hera, come in! It's me! Sabine!" There was static for a moment, but she quickly got an answer.

 

"Sabine?" Hera's voice responded. "Sabine, is that really you?"

 

"Hera! How did you find me?"

 

"I always know how to find you," Hera said almost mischievously. "Did you miss me, kid?"

 

"More than you know!" Sabine replied. She could feel tears forming in her eyes.

 

"The reunion will have to wait. We've got TIEs coming in, but I'm sending an extraction team to your position. Just hold on! We'll get you out of there!"

 

"There's still a lot of resistance down here! I hope you've brought enough guys to—" Sabine cut off mid-sentence when from out of nowhere, a blinking, metallic sphere landed right next to her.

 

A thermal detonator.

 

Sabine stood up to leap over the wing of the Fang Fighter. She was able to make it over, but she couldn't get away from the blast radius quick enough. The detonator exploded, launching her forward. She slammed into the ground hard, nearly blacking out from the shock.

 

"Sabine? Sabine, are you OK? Sabine! Sabine, answer me!" Hera's voice pleaded from the comm on her gauntlet. But Sabine didn't have the strength to reply. She was too preoccupied with the pieces of shrapnel she could feel protruding from her back.

 

"This is Phoenix Leader to Extraction Team Bravo! I need boots on the ground _now!_ My friend is in trouble! Get to point 0, 7, Delta, 8..."

 

The sound of Hera's voice in Sabine's comm was drowned out by the ringing in her ears. Sabine lifted her head, looking at all the chaos around her. Stormtroopers scurried around her, firing weapons at the sky above her. Several of them were still firing at the crashed Fang Fighter. She suddenly realized that she had no idea if Fenn was alright.

 

She tried to push herself up. But she had no strength. She couldn't move. She couldn't even feel anything. The shrapnel lodged in her back didn't make her feel the scorching pain she had been feeling all day. It was more of a numbness. A debilitating numbness that spread through her whole body, keeping her weighted down on the ground like a heavy boot.

 

As her body gave out, she could her mind start to as well. The dusty haze of the battlefield seemed to darken right before her eyes. She could feel herself drifting as her eyes began to slowly close.

 

 _No,_ she told herself. _I can’t die here. Not yet._ She tried to force herself awake. _Hera’s here. I can’t die without seeing her one last time._ Sabine grasped a handful of dirt, squeezing it as hard as she could, trying to keep herself from slipping away into nothingness.

 

_I can’t die. Not yet._

 

But it was getting darker, and her mind and body were getting weaker. Stormtroopers were gathering around her. She could hear them speaking to each other.

 

“The order is to take her alive!”

 

“Has anyone heard from Viceroy Saxon?”

 

“Where are those TIEs?”

 

“Get some fire on that freighter, now!”

 

A group of stormtroopers, who had seemed mostly distracted by the ships above them, turned toward her and started moving in, blasters at the ready.

 

The darkness thickened around her. Sabine prepared herself for a never-ending sleep.

 

“Where did you come from? Stand down!” Sabine heard a stormtrooper say.

 

Just then, Sabine heard an electronic hiss. In the darkness before her, she could see a light. A brilliant, green light. The green blade of a lightsaber.

 

_Ezra!_

 

He was here. Ezra was here. Sabine thought she would never see him again, but here he was. _He kept his promise._ She could see him, standing tall and defiant against the stormtroopers, his weapon ready at his side.

 

The stormtroopers called to each other in panic. “Oh no, it’s the Jedi! Fire! Fire! FIRE!”

 

A barrage of red blaster bolts streaked over Sabine’s field of vision. But the green blade whirled and struck at the oncoming attacks, deflecting them back at their source. Left and right, stormtroopers fell to the ground. But they didn’t let up. More of them circled around Ezra, pushing their attack.

 

 _Not even Ezra can take on this many troopers,_ Sabine thought to herself. Ezra had no cover. No backup. He was completely alone! She couldn’t let him throw away his life for hers!

 

From deep within her, Sabine summoned her last ounces of strength. She reached out for Ezra. Just like Kanan had told her to do. She reached out for him, her fingers trembling.

 

Ezra was still deflecting bolts with his saber. She saw him thrust his open palm outward, using the Force to push back a group of troopers.

 

But they kept on coming.

_Ezra…run…_

Her hand still reaching out to him, Sabine could struggle against the darkness no longer.

 

Sabine’s hand dropped, and oblivion took her.

 

 

 

_Several years earlier._

 

 

 

“They want you to leave the Rebellion?”

 

Though his eyes were unseeing, Sabine could see the surprise in Kanan’s face.

 

“Yes. That’s the condition that’s been set by the Coalition,” Sabine sadly told him.

 

She and the rest of the crew of the _Ghost_ stood together around the command center of Chopper Base’s war room. The dim lights of the holo display illuminated the shocked expressions of everyone present. Only Sabine and Fenn Rau’s expressions were calm.

 

Zeb was the first to break the silence. “How could the Mandalorians refuse our help? If it weren’t for us they never would’ve even formed the Coalition!”

 

“That’s true,” Fenn agreed, as he stood next to Sabine. “However, the Council of Houses have all agreed that they don’t want any outside military interference. In the Clone Wars, after the Siege of Mandalore, the New Republic occupied the planet. Then the Empire was formed. The Mandalorians are worried the Alliance will just repeat history.”

 

“The Alliance would never do that!” Hera interjected. “All we want to do is help Mandalore regain its independence!”

 

“Unfortunately, they would never believe that argument, considering how much the Alliance has depended on that hyperspace route.”

 

“But—“

 

“Please, Captain,” Fenn held up a hand. “I know what you’re saying, but the decision isn’t mine to make. I had a hard enough time getting them to trust me. And with all the deep-seated rivalries between all the houses, it’s a miracle Sabine and I were able to get them to cooperate with each other.”

 

“They only listened to me because I have this,” Sabine said, holding up the Darksaber in her hand.

 

“That’s not true,” Ezra told her.

 

Sabine looked in his direction. She wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure her, because he looked angry.

 

Chopper chimed in with his usual grunts and groans, gesturing sternly with his utility arms.

 

“Chopper, whoever is going to help you with repairs on the _Ghost_ is the least of our worries!” Hera snapped at the astromech.

 

Chopper grunted indignantly, but said nothing more.

 

Hera sighed, turning her focus back to the conversation. “Well, Sabine. It’s your call. You’re the one they asked to lead this fight, so I can’t tell you what to do.”

 

 _Well, technically you can_ , Sabine thought to herself. Hera was a captain, and she outranked Sabine by...Sabine suddenly realized that even though she was a full-fledged member of the Rebel Alliance, she had forgotten what her rank was. She and the rest of the _Ghost’s_ crew never seemed to pay much attention to minor details like that.

 

“Well,” Sabine said. “I, uh…”

 

Sabine looked at the weapon in her hand. Then she looked back at everyone else. They all stared at her, quietly and patiently. These people were family to her, but right now she felt more nervous around them than ever before. She looked at Kanan, who despite being blind, seemed to be able to tell she was looking at him.

 

“Sabine, you know that I don’t really believe in coincidence. And I don’t think that it was by coincidence that you came to possess that saber. I think that you were meant to have it, and that you were meant to do great things with it. Things that only you can do.”

 

_So are you telling me I should go?_

 

“The Mandalorians are too proud to acknowledge that they need help all the help you can get. If you were to lead them, I could rest easy knowing that the war over there is in good hands.” Kanan walked over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently.

 

“But you’re also one of us. And I don’t know if any of us could bear to see you go.”

 

Sabine looked up at him, unable to think of what to say. She looked at Hera, who looked back at her with the gaze of a loving mother. Zeb was looking at her too, his eyes filled with concern. Sabine glanced at Ezra, but as soon as their eyes locked, he looked away.

 

She turned around to look at Fenn Rau. His expression was hardest to read of them all. But she knew full well that he wanted her to go with him to Mandalore.

 

“I’m gonna need some time to think about it,” Sabine said, looking downward. She headed for the door of the war room, which slid open as she approached it.

 

“The first strategy meeting is in three days,” Fenn reminded her. “You’ll need to make a decision by then.”

 

Sabine stopped at the door and turned to face everyone. They all looked back at her, their expressions mixed. They all looked concerned, but somehow Ezra seemed angry.

 

 _Why is he looking at me like that?_ Sabine wondered.

 

Sighing, Sabine turned to the door and walked out of the war room. She silently headed for her quarters that she shared with Hera. After taking off her armor, Sabine sat down at a table against the wall, holding her head in her hands.

 

And for the first time in what must have been years, she cried.

 

 

 

_Three days later._

 

 

 

The blast doors leading out to the landing bay slid open. Stepping out of Chopper Base, her duffel bag slung over her shoulder, Sabine stepped out into the arid atmosphere of Atollon. The morning sun was still rising, and the usual unbearable heat had been replaced with a pleasant breeze.

 

But Sabine wasn’t particularly cheerful this morning. Because today she was leaving the Alliance to lead the Coalition of Mandalore.

 

She was leaving her family.

 

Far ahead of her, past the parked freighters, cargo crates, and Rebel recruits running morning errands, she saw the outline of the transport shuttle that would take her and Fenn to Mandalore. Outside of the shuttle stood Fenn, looking right at her. Readjusting her bag on her shoulder, Sabine started the long walk to the landing pad.

 

“Leaving without saying goodbye?” a voice called to her.

 

Leaning against the wall of the base was Ezra, arms folded across his chest. He looked intently at Sabine. He didn’t seem angry, like before. But he didn’t seem happy either.

 

Sabine raised an eyebrow, suddenly feeling very annoyed with him. “I said my goodbyes last night. At my going-away party. During which you barely said a word!”

 

“What was I supposed to say?” Ezra asked, straightening up and walking over to Sabine. “Good bye and good luck? Hope you have fun fighting on a planet you barely grew up on with a bunch of war-crazed mercenaries?”

 

“Mandalore is my homeworld!” Sabine shot back, raising her voice at him.

 

“Well I thought—“ Ezra yelled back at her, but stopped mid-sentence. His eyes dropped away from hers. “I thought…this was your home.”

 

Sabine smirked. “A military base on a desert rock?”

 

Ezra looked up at her, his face still serious. “You know what I mean.”

 

She did. She really did. And that hurt the most.

 

Sabine sighed, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Look, Ezra. The Rebellion is important. I know that. Fighting for it has been the only thing in my life that’s made sense. And despite all the struggle, it’s really the only thing that’s made me happy. Because it’s how I met all of you.”

 

Ezra smiled. It seemed like it was the first time he had in the last several days.

 

“But Kanan’s made me realize that things happen for a reason,” Sabine continued. “He says it was fate that brought the two of you together, and I believe that. And now, I think fate is telling me that I have a duty to fulfill to me and my people.”

 

Ezra placed a hand on her shoulder. “I know. I really do. I think the Force is telling me that this is something you have to do. I think that’s why the Darksaber came to you.”

 

Ezra’s gentle, blue eyes bore into her. She could tell that there was still something he wasn’t telling her.

 

“Let me come with you. We can look out for each other, just like we always have.”

 

Sabine frowned, shaking her head. “You can’t. The Council was very clear. Mandalorians only.”

 

Ezra flashed one of his trademarks grins at her, and put his hands on his hips. She loved when he made that face. “Well, I could check my closet. I’m sure I’ve got a Mandalorian bucket in my collection somewhere!”

 

Sabine giggled. “You’d better not have. You know you have to let me paint every new acquisition!”

 

The two laughed together. When the laughing stopped, the two simply looked at each other in silence. Sabine was happy now. She and Ezra could part ways on good terms. Last night she dreaded leaving him in the sour mood he was in.

 

The two moved in close for one last embrace. Sabine dropped her duffel and circled her arms around Ezra, holding him close to her, feeling his closely cropped hair tickle at her face. “Take care of yourself, kid.”

 

“You too, Sabine.”

 

They broke the embrace. Giving Ezra one last look, Sabine picked up her duffel and turned back toward the landing pad. Ezra stood there in silence, a melancholy look on his usually cheerful face.

 

Sabine had only made it a few meters, before she dropped her duffel again, turned, and ran back to Ezra. Placing a hand on his chest, she pressed her face in close to his and kissed him with all the force she could muster. She felt Ezra’s hand move to cup her cheek, returning her kiss. After a few blissful seconds, she pulled away. The flustered look on Ezra’s face made her smile.

 

“You’d better be here when I get back,” she warned him.

 

Ezra smiled. “It’s a promise.”

 

Sabine smiled fondly back at him. She jogged over to her bag, lifted it over her shoulder, and continued her walk to the landing pad. As she approached Fenn, she noticed that he was giving her a sly look.

 

Sabine glared and pointed sternly at him as she strode up the ramp. “Not a word.”

 

Fenn chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.”

 

The shuttle’s ramp closed, and the two Mandalorians seated themselves in the cockpit of the shuttle. They lifted off from Atollon, heading for space. After Fenn navigated a hyperspace route that would take them to the rendezvous point, he pushed down on the hyperdrive, launching the shuttle forward in a blur of light.

 

 

 

_Present day._

 

 

 

Sabine hazily awoke from her dream to what felt like the embrace of a warm ocean. A gentle blue light surrounded her, and bubbles formed and rose above her sight. She felt weightless, untethered, and completely relaxed. The pain of her wounds was a distant memory, and her body was no longer burdened by her heavy armor.

 

_Am I dead?_

 

A few moments passed, and Sabine could gradually feel her senses return. Her focus sharpened, and she became more aware of what was around her. She could feel a harness under her arms suspending her in the water, and a breathing apparatus was strapped to her face. She could feel the folds of a white medical gown gently brush her bare skin.

 

Sabine now realized that she wasn’t dead, and she was no longer in a dream. She had just regained consciousness in a bacta tank. Her eyes were now able to see past the glass of the tank into the white medical room. She could see a couple of medical droids sitting at consoles, probably monitoring her vital signs and controlling the bacta concentration. Next to them, she could make out several figures standing in the room. The glare from the lights shining on the tank prevented her from clearly seeing their faces. But she could tell they were standing in a circle, talking amongst themselves.

 

She tried to raise a hand to signal to them that she was OK, but just as she did, she felt a slight sting from her abdomen. She heard a faint electronic tone, and the figures huddled outside of her tank turned their attention to her. She couldn’t make out their faces, but from their body language she could tell they were worried. She tried to focus on their faces, trying to find Ezra somewhere in the group.

 

 _He’s here,_ she reminded herself.

 

Sabine heard a rush of new bubbles surge up from beneath her. The pain she felt in her stomach subsided, and she felt herself drift off again. She shut her eyes, and allowed the warm liquid around her to carry her to sleep.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

Sabine’s eyes fluttered open, and she found herself staring at a white ceiling. She was lying on a soft mattress, covered in cool white sheets, her head cradled by a feather pillow. She couldn’t remember the last time she awoke in a bed this comfortable.

 

Sabine winced as she lifted her head to observe her surroundings. The medical bay’s white walls were bare, save for a few pieces of mounted medical equipment. A medical droid worked at a console, its back turned to her. Arranged on a table against the wall was Sabine’s Mandalorian armor, including her helmet. The Darksaber rested next to her gear. And sitting at her bedside, fast asleep, was Hera. Leaned over on her bed, Hera’s head rested on her folded arms. One of her lekku was splayed across Sabine’s legs.

 

Sabine was still feeling too weak to rouse her dear friend awake. “Hera?” she croaked. “Hera?”

 

Hera lifted her head, blinked the sleep out of her eyes, then lit up with a face of joy that made Sabine’s heart soar.

 

“Sabine!” Hera exclaimed, throwing her arms around Sabine, wrapping her in a fervent hug. “Thank the Force you’re alright!”

 

Sabine felt tears form in her eyes. After all these years, she couldn’t be happier to see the woman who was like a mother and a sister to her. She felt strength return to her, and she slowly circled her arms around Hera, holding her close.

 

Hera pulled away to look at Sabine’s face, but her hands gripped Sabine’s shoulder firmly. There were tears in Hera’s eyes as well. “When they brought you onboard, I honestly thought I had lost you for sure!”

 

Sabine laughed weakly. “It’s gonna take a lot more than the overwhelming military strength of the Empire to bring me down.”

 

Hera laughed, wiping the tears from her eyes. Just then, the door of the medical room hissed open, and a procession of people filed into the room. Fenn Rau was the first one in, his usually serious face turning to a smile when his eyes met Sabine’s. Behind him, a familiar looking young woman with brown hair dressed in white followed. The woman was followed by another figure in black, whom she didn’t recognize, and following him were three droids. A golden protocol droid, a blue and white astromech droid, and another astromech colored black and orange.

 

“Chopper!” Sabine exclaimed. Chopper rolled directly toward Sabine, rudely pushing its way past the other humans in the room. Chopper sounded off a series of grunts, his head spinning wildly on his chassis.

 

Hera smiled. “He’s much happier to see you than he’s willing to admit.”

 

Sabine laughed. It seemed with every familiar face, she felt more strength coming back to her.

 

_But where’s Ezra?_

 

The blue and white astromech whistled a series of beeps and squeals. It seemed pleased to see Sabine.

 

“I don’t know if you remember us, Commander Wren, but Artoo and I encountered you many years ago when you helped us escape Lothal. Oh, I beg your pardon. I am C-3P0, human cyborg relations. And this is my counterpart, R2-D2. We’ve been serving in the Rebellion for quite some time now, and it’s always wonderful to be reunited with comrades in arms. I must say, it’s quite miraculous you were able to recover from all those dreadful wounds. I was speaking with one of the medical droids earlier, TX-187, and he was saying that—“

 

“Threepio!” the young woman cut him off.

 

“Apologies, Princess Leia.”

 

Artoo beeped again. Threepio sharply turned toward the astromech, but said nothing.

 

The young woman stepped forward, her pretty face smiling at Sabine like an old friend. “It’s good to see you in one piece again, Sabine. It’s been a long time.”

 

Sabine narrowed her eyes. Where had she seen this woman before? She thought hard, running over past missions in her mind. The grogginess she was feeling before had washed away.

 

“Lothal!” Sabine remembered. “Princess Leia Organa!”

 

Leia nodded. “We were all so worried about you. General Syndulla hasn’t left your side since they pulled you out of the bacta tank.”

 

Sabine smiled at Hera. “General, eh? Sounds like you’ve been doing alright without me!” But then, Sabine’s expression became worried again. “But, if you’re both here, with those fighters, then that means…”

 

Leia held up a hand. “It’s alright. We know full well that the Coalition of Mandalore demanded that we don’t interfere with their campaign to free themselves of the occupation. We were planning on honoring that request—until we received the distress signal from Captain Rau.”

 

Sabine looked over at Fenn. He looked uncomfortable, but he didn’t deny what Leia was saying.

 

Hera jumped in. “Before you two left, Fenn approached me with a request. He understood that the Mandalorians wanted to win their independence all on their own, but he didn’t want them to lose the fight just for refusing help from the Republic. I gave him an emergency beacon, which he would use only in Mandalore’s most desperate hour.”

 

Fenn nodded. “I activated the beacon shortly after you closed the hatch of my Fang.” He smirked a bit. “If you weren’t going to let me do any fighting, I had to call someone who would!”

 

“He was also sending us regular reports, updating us on the campaign. When he told us you were locked in an all-or-nothing fight just a few klicks away from Sundari, we decided to put the fleet on standby outside the system. Then we got his signal, and decided that no matter what the Mandalorians said, we were going to do everything we could to drive the Empire out of there once and for all.” Hera gestured around her. “As you can see, the city is safe, thanks to you.”

 

 _So we’re in Sundari_ , Sabine thought to herself. She was relieved that the city was still safe by the time the battle ended. “But now that you’re here…”

 

“I’ve managed to talk down the Council,” Fenn consoled her. “General Syndulla, the Princess, and I will be meeting with them shortly to reassure them that the Republic will not be staying. Mandalorians won their independence, and they will be allowed to protect it on their own.”

 

“We are hoping, however, that this meeting can also lead to a peaceful coexistence between Mandalore and the New Republic,” Leia added optimistically.

 

“She’s good at what she does,” Hera winked at Sabine. “Trust me.”

 

Sabine nodded, feeling comforted. The last thing she wanted at the end of the fight with the Empire was a skirmish between the Mandalorians and the Republic. But there was still something else that was bothering her.

 

“Hera, where’s Ezra?”

 

At the mention of the name, Hera tensed. “Ezra?”

 

“Yes, Ezra! I saw him on the battlefield. He jumped in and saved my life!”

 

Hera’s expression turned sorrowful. She put a hand on Sabine’s, stroking it gently. “Sabine, don’t you remember? I told you about this a long time ago. Ezra—“

 

“I know!” Sabine insisted. “But he’s here now! I saw him! He had his lightsaber, and he used the Force, and he—“

 

“Actually,” Leia interjected. “I think you have him to thank for that.”

 

Sabine looked over to her. Leia stepped to one side, and the figure dressed in black stepped forward. He was young, probably just a few years younger than Sabine. Maybe even close to Ezra’s age. He had sandy blond hair, and kind blue eyes. She noticed that his right hand was gloved, and a lightsaber hung from his belt. “It’s an honor to meet you, Sabine,” the man introduced himself.“I’m Luke Skywalker.”

 

Luke Skywalker? _The_ Luke Skywalker? Sabine could hardly believe it. She had heard rumors and reports about him, but he didn’t look at all like she had pictured. This was the man who had destroyed the first Death Star, commanded the elite Rogue Squadron, and had defeated Darth Vader during the Battle of Endor?

 

 _This is the other Jedi fighting for the Republic,_ Sabine realized. Her heart sank. He was the one who had saved her life. Not Ezra.

 

Ezra really wasn’t here.

 

Chopper interrupted her trance with several pestering grunts.

 

“Yes, Chopper, I know. I am grateful!” Sabine reached out her hand to Luke’s. “The honor is all mine, Commander Skywalker.”

 

Luke grinned warmly and shook her hand. “Luke’s just fine.”

 

“Right. Luke,” Sabine said awkwardly, trying to hide her disappointment. She glanced at Hera. Tears had begun forming in the Twi’lek’s eyes again, and she quickly wiped them away.

 

“I’m sorry,” Sabine said. “Out there on the field, I was thinking that maybe a friend of ours had come back.”

 

Luke nodded soberly. “Ezra Bridger. Yes, I’ve heard of him. I very much would’ve liked to meet him. And Kanan Jarrus. I’m sure we would’ve had much to learn from each other.”

 

The room became uncomfortably quiet. Sabine became worried that she might start tearing up in front of her dearest friend, a Mandalorian, and two heroes of the Rebellion.

 

“Where’s Zeb?” Sabine asked Hera, changing the topic.

 

Hera smiled. “He’s currently on a mission in the Inner Rim.” She raised an eyebrow. “With Kallus.”

 

Sabine’s eyes widened. “Kallus? Are you sure you don’t need to check in to make sure they haven’t killed each other?”

 

Hera chuckled. “Don’t you worry. Things have changed. And the two of them work together better than you might think.” Hera stood up. “Although, he did ask me to contact him as soon as you regained consciousness. Don’t want to keep the big guy worried.” Hera placed a hand on Sabine’s forehead, brushing her neon green hair and smiling lovingly. “Get some rest. You’ve earned a day off.”

 

Sabine nodded. “We’ll talk more later.”

 

“Count on it,” Hera said over her shoulder as she walked out of the room, followed closely by Chopper, who once again rudely pushed past the others.

 

“I tell you, R2. I will never get used to that droid’s complete and utter lack of manners,” Threepio remarked as he headed out of the room. “If you ever behave like that R2, you can bet that I’ll stop letting you follow me around everywhere.”

 

Artoo beeped a reply.

 

“ _I’m_ the one who follows _you_? I think I might have to take you down to maintenance to have your logic circuits diagnosed.” The droids’ bickering grew fainter as they left the room.

 

Leia smiled at Sabine as she left, followed by Fenn, who gave her a nod and a rare smile, and left the room as well. Luke was the last one headed out the door. Before leaving, he turned and said “You’ll feel better in no time. Bacta really works wonders after a hard day. Believe me, I know.”

 

“Commander Skywalker!” Sabine called after him. “I mean, Luke.”

 

Luke stopped, turning to Sabine. She took a good, long look at him. He looked strong, like he had survived many battles. But he was also warm and genuine. And despite his youth, he had an air of maturity that made him seem much older. Maybe it was how all Jedi looked to her, but she could see a lot of Kanan and Ezra in him.

 

Sabine threw off the covers and slipped out of her bed. She felt a little embarrassed wearing only a thin white medical gown, but the garment reached her knees, so it was still alright to walk around in it. She walked over to the table, took the Darksaber, and held it out to Luke.

 

“Luke, you know what this is, don’t you?”

 

Luke nodded, staring at the saber. “I’ve read about this artifact in the journals of my master. But I never thought I’d see it with my own eyes.” He took the saber in his hand. Sabine expected him to activate the blade to study its unique color, but he simply examined the hilt, turning it over in his hands. It seems he had more sense than to turn on a lightsaber in a small room full of medical equipment.

 

“It was stolen from the Jedi temple centuries ago,” Sabine said. “It’s been passed down to generations of Mandalorians since that time.” But took a deep breath. “But now, I think it’s time it returned to its rightful owners.”

 

Luke looked up at her with surprise. “Sabine,” he started. He seemed at a loss for words. “I can’t tell you what this gesture means to me.” He took another moment to examine the weapon. She could tell he was thinking carefully. Then, he held the saber out to her. “But I can’t accept.”

 

“But why?” Sabine asked, taking the weapon back. “It’s a lightsaber. It belongs to a Jedi!”

 

Luke smiled. “I like the one I have. Besides, I think that saber will do more good for your people than it will for mine.” He turned and headed out the door.

 

“There are a lot more Mandalorians than Jedi nowadays,” he said over his shoulder.

 

The door slid shut. And Sabine was alone, save for the medical droid that seemed completely oblivious to the conversation that had just taken place.

 

Luke’s words echoed in her mind. _A lot more Mandalorians than Jedi nowadays._

_Are the Jedi really all gone?_

 

Placing the Darksaber on the table, Sabine tucked herself back into her bed. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep. But she couldn’t.

 

All she could do was think about Ezra.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

The long struggle to win back Mandalore had ended. After the New Republic had arrived, the Imperials retreated. The leaders of the Coalition were still not pleased that the Republic had interfered with their fight for independence, but at least their attitude toward them didn’t seem hostile. They acknowledged and thanked Hera for her help, and seemed satisfied with their meetings with Leia. Sabine’s fears now seemed unwarranted.

 

The Republic soldiers were even invited to the memorial service that would held for all the Mandalorians that gave their lives in the war against the Empire. Free from the Empire’s restrictions against the practice of traditional Mandalorian ceremonies, the Mandalorians thought it only appropriate to send off their dead in a manner befitting their people.

 

Outside of Sundari, a mass grave was dug. Perhaps the largest one in centuries. At first, several Republic soldiers questioned the ethics of burying so many brave warriors in a mass grave, but the galaxy had a vast array of beliefs. In the Mandalorian religion, it was believed that when a Mandalorian dies, he or she becomes part of the _manda_ , the collective state of being for all Mandalorian souls that have passed on. Since they would all become one after death, it was considered proper to bury them all together. The bodies were buried in full armor, keeping with tradition.

 

Not too far from the mass grave, in the light of the setting sun, the remaining Mandalorians and New Republic gathered together to pay their respects. As the New Republic forces came from a variety of cultures and races, they all showed their reverence in different ways. Some bowed, some held their hands together, and some kneeled. The Mandalorians, on the other hand, simply stood in silence, their helmets held in one hand, and the other hand at their side.

 

Standing at an altar, a bearded Mandalorian elder, dressed in red ceremonial robes, read the names of the fallen from a scroll. Sabine, joined by Hera, Chopper, Fenn, Leia, Luke, Threepio and Artoo, listened in silence.

 

“Voris. Clan Ordo. Cyndol. Clan Kelborn. Poz. Clan Rodarch.”

 

The latest battle had claimed the lives of hundreds of Mandalorians. Some of the New Republic soldiers occasionally looked around, wondering when the ceremony would be over. But the Mandalorians never showed any signs of impatience or discomfort. They stood like stoic statues as they listened to the names being read.

 

“Jagar. Clan Sornell. Lunav. Clan Deshra. Zeriff. Clan Beroya.”

 

Sabine noted that the elder was breaking custom by omitting which house each Mandalorian belonged to. But she felt it was fitting, sincethe houses of Mandalore were essentially political factions. Even though a Mandalorian swore to serve their house, loyalties to houses often shifted as time went by and civil wars shifted the balance of power. It wasn’t uncommon for a Mandalorian to serve two, even three houses in their lifetime.

 

But a clan was something you were born into. A clan was family. A clan was forever.

 

Sabine paid attention to the elder’s reading, carefully listening for any names that belonged to clan Wren. But she never heard any. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved that none of her kinsman died, or disappointed that she may have finally confirmed that she was the only surviving member of her clan. The depressing thought distracted her, and then she couldn’t help but think of the conversation that she and Fenn had the day before.

 

“Now that Mandalore is back under Mandalorian control, the Council of Houses think we should hurry and decide on its new leader,” Fenn told Sabine as the two of them strode through the streets of the domed city of Sundari. All around them, crews of Mandalorians worked to restore buildings and streets that had been damaged in the battle to reclaim it.

 

“What kind of leader though?” Sabine asked. “Are they thinking of another duchy?”

 

Fenn sighed. “I admit that Duchess Satine’s vision of a pacifist Mandalore was noble. But as you know, the Mandalorians are warriors. Trying to suppress that part of our nature could lead to the rise of another Pre Vizsla.”

 

“But the war is ending soon,” Sabine said. “What place is there for a warrior in a galaxy with no one to fight?”

 

“The galaxy is wide, diverse, and has a long history. As long as people live in it, wars are inevitable.”

 

Sabine looked down. It wasn’t an idea she relished, but it was probably true.

 

“I believe the important thing is that Mandalore doesn’t become an aggressor, like the Empire,” Fenn continued. “We must be allowed to fight, but we must also be allowed to choose our battles,so that we can fight honorably on the side of justice.”

 

“And if there are no battles to fight?” Sabine asked.

 

“We will wait, and prepare for the next one.”

 

“OK, so it sounds like a pacifist government isn’t going to satisfy everyone,” Sabine concluded. “So what, we appoint a new Mand’alor? Hold a tournament?”

 

“I asked the council about it when you were still recovering,” Fenn said. “They seemed very much in favor of the idea of you becoming the new Mand’alor.”

 

Sabine stopped short. She stared at the ground, lost in a stupor. Fenn stopped and turned to face her.

 

“Sabine?”

 

“They want me?” Sabine asked, still in disbelief.

 

“It makes sense, doesn’t it?” Fenn asked. “You were the one who helped negotiate the truce between the houses and formed the Coalition. You lead the military campaign to free Mandalore. You have the Darksaber. I’d say that it was fate for you to become the new Mand’alor.”

 

“But, that means…I’d have to stay here forever.”

 

“Well, yes. We couldn’t very well get along without someone in charge.”

 

For a while Sabine said nothing. She only thought about Hera, Zeb, and Chopper. She thought about Kanan. And about Ezra.

 

She thought about her life before coming to Mandalore. Her time as a bounty hunter, and the time she spent on the _Ghost_. The only time in her life when she truly felt like she belonged.

 

But she was a Mandalorian. Mandalore was her homeworld. So why did it feel like Mandalore was pulling her farther and farther away from where she wanted to be?

 

“You have the right to refuse, you know,” Fenn interrupted Sabine’s reverie, and she snapped back to reality.

 

“What?”

 

“They can’t exactly force you to take the position. They just feel that after everything has happened, you might be the one who manages to keep Mandalore together.” Fenn turned away from her, looking around at the domed city that surrounded them. “Maybe one day we wouldn’t have need for these things. Maybe we could make Mandalore livable again. Under the sun.”

 

Sabine once again felt the pressure of destiny crushing her, just like it did years ago when she was asked to lead the Coalition.

 

“How soon do they need an answer?” Sabine asked quietly.

 

“They’re hoping for one after the memorial tomorrow,” Fenn replied. He put a hand on her shoulder as he stepped passed her to leave. “I know the answer I hope for, but you need to decide what’s best for you.” Fenn walked away, leaving Sabine by herself with her thoughts. She hoped that once again, she would hear Kanan’s voice, giving her guidance like he did when she almost died on the battlefield.

 

But there was nothing but silence.

 

Sabine’s mind returned to the present, listening to the names of more deceased Mandalorians being read.

 

“Rynar. Clan Tenau. Harth. Clan Awaud. Xeric. Clan Lok.”

 

Sabine still wasn’t sure what she would do. She spent years of her life fighting to take back Mandalore. She couldn’t deny that she felt some degree of responsibility for it. But despite how much time she had spent here, it just didn’t feel like home.

 

Just then, the Elder rolled up his scroll. He faced the crowd, arms outstretched, and closed his eyes to deliver his concluding remarks.

 

"Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum."

 

Threepio sounded perked up. “Oh my, this is quite extraordinary. The elder is giving a traditional Mandalorian eulogy in his native tongue. Perhaps some of you would like me to translate what is being said? As you know I am fluent in over six million forms of communication and would be more than happy to—“

Leia, without looking at the chatty protocol droid, placed a hand over Threepio’s mouth, shaking her head. Immediately, Threepio stopped talking.

 

Sabine knew exactly what the priest was saying: _I’m still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal_. It was one of the more poetic phrases of her people.

 

The elder continued. "Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la.”

 

_Not gone, merely marching far away._

 

The elder lowered his hands. The ceremony was concluded, and the crowd began to disperse.

 

Sabine turned to Hera, who wore a solemn expression. “I’ve been to more of these kinds of memorials than I care for,” Hera said mournfully.“It’s always sad to think about how many lives the Empire has taken.”

 

Sabine nodded in agreement. She felt guilty, thinking about how many planets Hera must’ve saved from the Empire. _I’ve only helped take back one._

 

“Fenn told me about his meeting with the council,” Hera ventured. “It’s quite an honor, to be asked to become the Mand’alor.”

 

“Yeah.” Sabine looked down.

 

“But is it what you want?” Hera asked. “You’ve been wandering the galaxy your whole life. Your time here has probably been the longest you’ve ever been on one planet. Am I right?”

 

Sabine nodded, but said nothing.

 

“I’ve thought about going home myself, when this is all over,” Hera continued. “At least, for a while. I never really fit in there, growing up. To be honest, I was much happier when I was travelling around with all of you.”

 

Sabine looked up at Hera. She looked at Sabine with that same, motherly smile that she had come to depend on. It was a smile that told Sabine that Hera would support her no matter what she decided to do. Sabine couldn’t think of anything to say.

 

But Hera broke the silence. “Now, after all that, I’d say it’s time for us to get something to eat! Is Mandalorian food as bad as I’ve heard?” Hera put an arm around Sabine and they walked together to a parked speeder that would take them back to the city.

 

Sabine laughed. “That’s pretty big talk, coming from someone who can only cook something as fancy as burnt shroomchip stew.”

 

“Hey, you know that recipe was in Sullustese, and you said you were too busy to help me translate!”

 

“I would've helped if I knew you didn’t know how to work your own stove!”

 

Laughing together, the two friends boarded the speeder and dashed back to Sundari.

 

 

 

_Evening, the next day._

 

 

 

"Excuse me! Sorry! Pardon me!" Sabine called breathlessly as she sprinted past pedestrians in Sundari's spaceport. Her duffel bag, gripped tightly under her arm, bobbed up and down as she jumped over crates and slipped through narrow spaces between people walking by. As she ran through, Mandalorians watched her go by, puzzled expressions on their faces.

 

"Isn't that Sabine Wren?"

 

"Is she going on a mission?"

 

"Why is the new Mand'alor in such a hurry?"

 

Sabine didn't pay them any notice. Panting, she focused on the path ahead, heading for the landing pad where Hera would be taking off from.

 

 _Just don't leave without me_ , Sabine pleaded in her head.

 

A hover cart, driven by a maintenance droid, slowly started to glide past her. Seizing the opportunity, Sabine jumped on the back of the cart, gripping the railing with one hand, and shifting her bag over her shoulder with the other.

 

The driver droid turned its head, and in an annoyed tone said "Excuse me, no hop-ons please! If you need a lift to a landing pad you can call—" The droid's tone suddenly change. "Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't realize who you were! Where to?"

 

Sabine grinned. "Landing pad 67, please!"

 

"Roger!" the droid responded, and increased speed.

 

Sabine savored the wind rushing past her green hair, as she watched the people and lights of Sundari fly by. She felt a surge of gratitude for everything she was able to see and learn while she here. But most of all, she felt excited to finally go home.

 

Just then, the hover cart turned a corner, opening up into a sprawling hangar filled with docked ships. Most of them were Mandalorian freighters and starfighters, but toward the back of them, she could see the familiar outline of the _Ghost_. As they approached, she could see Hera, engaged in a conversation with a dock worker. Sabine’s heart swelled with joy. _Imade it!_

 

The driver stopped the cart several meters from the ship. Sabine thanked him, and rushed over to the _Ghost_. Hera finished talking to the dock worker, and started heading up the ramp, apparently not noticing Sabine's approach.

 

"Hera!" Sabine called out. She sprinted over to the _Ghost_ , dropping her bag and leaning over to catch her breath.

 

"Sabine?" Hera asked, clearly surprised to see her.

 

After a few swallows of air, Sabine looked up at Hera. "Got room for one more?"

 

Hera beamed, running over to Sabine and pulling her in a tight hug. "Of course!"

 

After a few seconds, Hera released Sabine. "But, Fenn told me that you had accepted the title of Mand'alor!"

 

"Oh, I did," Sabine said slyly. "For about five minutes. And let me tell you, it was a very memorable five minutes!"

 

Hera raised an eyebrow. "OK, so what happened? The fastest _coup d’etat_ in recorded history?"

 

Sabine shook her head. "Nope. As the unquestioned, all-powerful leader of Mandalore, I exercised my divine right to step down from my position and appoint someone of my choosing."

 

Hera put an arm around Sabine, walking the two of them up the ramp of the _Ghost_. "Oh really?" Hera asked. "And in your infinite wisdom, great Mand’alor, who did you choose?"

 

"Fenn, of course," Sabine replied casually. "I tried to convince the Council that he would be the best choice, but they didn't seem happy about him sending that distress signal to the Republic. So appointing him myself was the only way I could make it happen! Not even the Council can reject a decision made by the Mand’alor!"

 

Hera laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "Even after all this time, you're still full of surprises!"

 

"And I really do think that he's the best man for the job. He was telling me about all his ideas of how Mandalore should be governed from now on. He also suggested keeping the Council of Houses in power. We both thought the Mand'alor wielded too much power as an individual."

 

"Sabine Wren, you just might make a better politician than a soldier!"

 

"Ha!" Sabine blurted. "Not likely."

 

The two stood in the cargo bay. Sabine looked around at the durasteel floors and blinking console lights. It was already starting to feel more like home.

 

"So," Hera continued. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't every Mand'alor also get some grand title? Like, 'Mand'alor the Indestructible' or 'Mand'alor the Undying'?"

 

"Actually," Sabine said. "I had an idea for a title, and Fenn seemed to like it."

 

"So what was it?"

 

Sabine smiled. "Mand'alor the Liberator."

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

After sharing a meal together, Hera went up to the cockpit, assisted by Chopper. She had insisted that Sabine get some proper sleep. Taking in the scenery, Sabine went to her old cabin. When the door slid open, she could feel tears in her eyes.

 

Hera had left Sabine's room exactly as it was when she still lived on the _Ghost_. The lines, the shapes, the colors, the exaggerated caricatures...they were all exactly like Sabine had painted them. It was like she had never left.

 

Sabine stripped off her armor, washed up, and made herself ready for bed. When she climbed into her bunk, she noticed something on her pillow. Her old airbrush. Sabine smiled as she cradled it in her hands. She had forgotten that she had left it here. She was so wrapped up in fighting the Empire for the last several years, she never made much time for her art.

 

After climbing onto her bunk, Sabine pulled a blanket over herself and looked around the room. She was already a teenager by the time she had moved into the ship, but she felt like this was the place where she grew up. Not feeling like she was ready to sleep yet, she idly spun the airbrush in one hand, resting her chin on the other.

 

 _Maybe after this is all over_ , she thought to herself. _I could become a real artist_. _Paint starships, racers, walls, anything!_ After all the time she had spent fighting, she felt like she was ready for a peaceful, quieter life.

 

_Well, maybe not too quiet._

 

She was so lost in thought, she lost control of the airbrush, and it clattered onto the ground. Glad that no one else was around to see her blunder, Sabine jumped down from her bunk. The airbrush had clattered under the table under her bunk, and she got on her hands and knees to find it.

 

But when she grabbed the airbrush, she noticed something else. A tiny, hand-held holo projector. She held it in her hand, staring at it, trying to remember what was on it. She clicked it on, and before her eyes, a small hologram opened. She smiled fondly.

 

It was an image of her and Ezra, together. Just the two of them. She remembered now. Chopper recorded the image during Ezra's birthday one year. Since his birthday also happened to fall on Empire Day, he was usually pretty glum, and she had wanted to make it extra special for him. She had put an arm around him and squeezed him tight. Ezra had been totally caught off guard at the time, but looking at his face now, he really looked happy.

 

"I miss you," Sabine whispered. She took the projector with her to bed, staring at the precious memory until she finally fell asleep.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

The next morning, Sabine, dressed in her armor and refreshed from a good night sleep in her old bed, emerged from her cabin. She greeted Chopper with a friendly 'good morning' as they passed in the corridor. The droid just grumbled in response. Sabine made two cups of caf in the kitchen, then headed to the cockpit to help Hera.

 

Hera, as usual, was already awake and alert at the helm. Dependable as always.

 

"Morning," Sabine called, taking the co-pilot seat and handing Hera one of the cups.

 

"Oh, morning," Hera replied, taking the cup. She blew on the hot brew and took a sip. "Thanks. Sleep well?"

 

"Best sleep I've had in years," Sabine answered. "Especially considering my room looked exactly like I left it. Thanks for that."

 

"It was actually Ezra who insisted on it. Although I wouldn't have changed it anyway." Hera took another sip.

 

"I see," Sabine said quietly. She held her caf in two hands, watching the steam rise.

 

"By the way, Zeb says hi," Hera set the cup down on her console, pulling up the ship's transmission records. "He and Kallus just completed their mission. He also said next time we meet, we're going to a cantina. And you're buying the first round."

 

Sabine grinned. "Sure.” The prospect of going drinking with Zeb was definitely something to look forward to.“So what was the mission?"

 

"He and Kallus were working on a lead about a top-secret Imperial weapons facility. With the Empire getting more desperate, Kallus believed that they would be putting all their eggs into their last big basket. And it looks like his intel was right." Hera looked at Sabine. "There's a good chance that this is going to be the battle that finally ends this war."

 

Sabine could feel hope welling up inside of her. The end of the war. _Finally, we can finish what we all started together_. "Where's the facility located?" Sabine asked.

 

"It's in the Western Reaches. On some little dust-ball called Jakku."

 

Sabine took a long sip of caf, let out a sigh of satisfaction, then looked at Hera with a gleam in her eyes and a confident smile on her face.

 

"So, when do we leave?"

 

THE END


End file.
